


Handwritten hints, sneaking suspicions and dangerous discoveries

by PrettyPinkCupcake



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Rigel Black Chronicles - murkybluematter
Genre: Fanfiction of Fanfiction, Gen, Identity Reveal, Inspired by The Rigel Black Chronicles, Revelations, Rigelverse, Set at the end of chapter 5 of the Futile Facade, murkybluematter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:15:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26474770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyPinkCupcake/pseuds/PrettyPinkCupcake
Summary: [Fanfiction of murkybluematter's Rigel Black Chronicles.  Set at the end of Chapter 5 of Futile Facade].A picture paints a thousand words; handwriting heralds a person's identity.Harriet Potter was careful to use dicta quills and handwriting charms on all the shaped imbuing discussion papers and proposals she prepared for her meeting with Potions Master Severus Snape at the end of the summer holidays, just before school returns in Futile Façade.But what would happen if a note in her real handwriting somehow got caught up in the papers she gave to Master Snape?
Comments: 19
Kudos: 191
Collections: Rigel Black Chronicles Appreciation





	Handwritten hints, sneaking suspicions and dangerous discoveries

**Author's Note:**

> This will only make sense to fans of murkybluematter's Pureblood Pretense, Serpentine Subterfuge, Ambiguous Artifice and the Futile Facade.
> 
> If you haven't read these works, you've missed something significant in the world of Harry Potter FanFiction, so what are you waiting for? Read them!

The rest of Severus’s day was nowhere near as productive as his meeting at the Potions Guild discussing future options for shaped imbuing with Miss Potter; unbelievable as it would have seemed to him three years ago, the daughter of James Potter had been a dazzling spark in an otherwise dismal day. 

Horace Burke had owled him about a delay to the delivery of key potions ingredients for Hogwarts; Edgar Whitaker had accosted him as he was trying to leave the Guild building and harangued him, yet again, to provide a profile piece for the next edition of _Potions Quarterly_ (why couldn’t the bothersome buffoon just take no for an answer?); he’d had the (mis)fortune to run into Lucius, Narcissa and Draco in Diagon Alley and been dragooned into lunch with them at La Serene; and finally he’d had to suffer through an interminable meeting with Lord Riddle, Barty Crouch Jr and numerous other SOW party flunkies to discuss details of what would undoubtedly become the next blackhole that would devour his prize student’s attention and leave Rigel with no time for potions instruction. 

Thoroughly displeased with both guild and SOW party politics, underperforming potions ingredient suppliers and even old friends, Severus sank into his favourite armchair. He hoped that a quick flick through Miss Potter’s notes would be able to rekindle the unbridled enthusiasm he’d felt earlier that day. While the less said about Riddle’s plans and Potions Guild publicists the better, the remainder of the day hadn’t been a total disaster; Severus had to admit that the food at La Serene had been good. While he normally quite enjoyed lunching with the Malfoys, Lucius had been overly distracted with financial matters (something about juggling accounts to find the funds for a new charity initiative he’d been forced into with Sirius Black), Narcissa was somewhat out of sorts, and Draco had been excessively enthusiastic about restarting his duelling club and spending time with Pansy and Rigel. Severus’s ability to cope with teenagers babbling about inconsequential trivialities was vastly reduced during the holidays. 

Summoning the bundle of notes Miss Potter had given him, Severus was surprised to find a note in _Rigel’s_ small unslanted cursive nestled unashamedly out of place amongst Miss Potter’s pages of carefully written parchment. The consistency and evenness of the writing on Miss Potter’s notes suggested a dicta quill or handwriting charm rather than Miss Potter’s own hand, in stark contrast to the note in Rigel’s rather rushed handwriting that had somehow been caught up in Miss Potter’s shaped imbuing proposals. 

Written on the back of a list of potions was what appeared to be a short letter.

_Mr Krait,_

_I'll be bringing the next batches of Protection Potion and the other potions you’ve requested later this week. Sorry for the delay, but I've got a meeting with Master Snape that I have to prepare for. I’ll definitely have everything sorted before I have to leave for school._

_\- Harry._

Severus carefully read the note – both sides – somewhat perplexed. It would have been perfectly understandable if a note _Miss Potter_ had intended to owl had accidentally gotten caught up in the papers she was preparing for him. Her reuse of original correspondence to respond by owl was not unusual; she’d responded that way to his earlier request for a demonstration of her shaped imbuing. However, this note was in _Rigel Black’s_ handwriting, of that he was certain. He’d seen it enough times on Rigel’s assignments and Rigel’s bottled potions to recognise it. For all that the pseudo cousins were similar in appearance, had shared interests and a similar essay writing style, for them to have identical handwriting as well was stretching the bounds of probability... He was certain it _was_ Rigel’s handwriting on the note.

So why was _Rigel_ writing to a Mr Krait about supplying potions? Promising to supply Potter’s shaped imbued Protection Potion. (And what a mouthful Potter’s Portable Protection Potion was. He suspected Thompson or Whitaker had a role in naming it; Potter didn’t seem to be the type to care about things like that). As far as Severus knew, he and Potter were the only brewers who could shaped imbue; strangely enough Rigel couldn’t.

But most importantly, why was Rigel writing letters _pretending to be his halfblood cousin_? Severus knew just how badly Rigel had thwarted Lord Riddle and his proposed marriage law; each year for the last three years Riddle’s attempts to proceed with that legislation failed. It mattered not that the consequence of Rigel’s actions had been unintentional; Riddle would not let his plans be hindered a fourth time. The penalties for Rigel if he was caught this year in any shenanigans unhelpful to Riddle’s agenda, particularly anything involving his halfblood cousin, were ones that Severus did not want to contemplate. Not this year with the eyes of the world on Hogwarts; this year Rigel must play his role as the noble scion of a Dark Pureblood house impeccably, or suffer Riddle’s wrath. 

To calm his racing mind, Severus sank into a meditative state and accessed his mindscape. Passing through the less secure layers, his thoughts settled as he decided on a course of action. He was an academic, a researcher, an analyst. He wasn’t going to panic for the sake of his protege; he wasn’t going to get caught up in uncontrolled emotion. He was going to analyse the situation carefully and thoroughly before determining the most appropriate strategy; to do so he needed more information. He’d start with the easier question: who was this Krait that Rigel was writing to? Krait. The name was not wholly unfamiliar, but the context in which he’d heard it was escaping Severus at the moment. 

As a Potions Master Severus had to be able to remember the properties of innumerable ingredients and how each of those innumerable ingredients interacted with all of the other innumerable ingredients. While he had been blessed with a formidable memory, sadly it wasn’t an eidetic memory. To compensate, Severus had developed an Occlumency technique to improve his recall. He didn’t need to be deep within his mindscape to utilise the technique (occasionally he needed to use it when he had the misfortune to be required to deal with former students who automatically expected him to recall their names; just why the overly privileged brats expected him to remember each of their remarkably unmemorable faces he did not know), but meditation did expedite the process. 

It was with this technique that he promptly recalled where he’d heard the name Krait. A recent recollection; one related to his investigations into Miss Potter’s brewing skills. After hearing the Aldermaster’s glowing report of Miss Potter and her commercial brewing activities, Severus had contacted Horace Burke seeking further information. 

Burke didn’t appear to be deliberately withholding information from Severus – the Hogwarts potions account was not insignificant, after all, and for all that he disdained the trappings, Severus was an important member of Britain’s Potions Guild - but Burke hadn’t shed much light on the matter. He had confirmed that the Serpent’s Storeroom, one of a number of the apothecaries Burke purchased potions for resale from, did employ a young brewer named “Harry”, and that Harry was the brewer responsible for a number of Burke’s potions purchases from this apothecary. That was the extent of Burke’s information; the proprietor of the apothecary, one Edgar Krait, was apparently not forthcoming with details of his brewer, but the quality of the potions spoke for themselves, and that was sufficient for Burke. 

At the time, that had been sufficient for Severus also; it was enough information for his meeting with Miss Potter, and he had not needed to inquire further. Now it seemed that he must revisit his earlier investigation; he needed more information to unravel the puzzle that had been presented by the frequently perplexing Rigel Black and his cousin, the equally baffling Harriet Potter. 

The Serpent’s Storeroom was not an apothecary Severus frequented, but upon reflection, that was more due to habit (he’d been getting ingredients from Mulpepper’s on Diagon since his student days) and convenience (the Hogsmeade apothecary was handy to Hogwarts, and Horace Burke’s owl order service was second to none if you were willing to pay for it). He’d contact Burke in the morning for more information, and visit the Serpent’s Storeroom himself.

\- - - - - - - - - - -

Severus hated Floo calls, but that was the easiest way to contact Burke. He had to contact him anyway; Burke’s owl yesterday was somewhat lacking in detail, and he did actually need to know what was happening with the Hogwarts order. He’d run the Hogwarts ingredient supplies down at the end of last year, and now the school was completely out of a number of key ingredients. The porcupine quills were the most critical; they were an essential ingredient for the first week of classes. 

A mishap with porcupine quills was the easiest way to demonstrate the dangers of brewing to first years; there was always at least one dunderhead in each class who couldn’t be bothered to read the instructions properly and put the quills in before taking the cauldron off the heat. Each class, every year, without fail. And his professorial colleagues wondered why he was so strict in the potions lab; and why he called the little brats dunderheads to their faces.

“Just one more thing,” Severus said, after somewhat acerbically asking why it was so difficult this year for Burke to provide the same order he’d provided for over a decade; the curriculum had not changed, so neither the ingredients requested nor the required timing of the delivery was a surprise, after all. Burke had only effusive apologies and what were hopefully not empty promises. Severus had not forgotten Burke’s inability to deliver during the ginseng shortage several years ago.

“Not still chasing after this Harry kid, are you?” Burke asked. 

Severus grimaced internally; when he’d been following up on the information the Aldermaster let slip about Miss Potter he must have been a bit more forceful with his questions to Burke than he’d realised, if Burke was now jumping straight to this assumption. Regardless, there was no need to disabuse Burke, after all, any information he got about Harry Potter (and Rigel Black) was information he wanted. 

“I told you all I know before. Krait’s always been notoriously tight lipped about his brewers, and he’s had even less to say about this Harry than the others. ‘I don’t care about his background,’ Krait said to me, ‘he could be a dancing bear, for all I care, provided he keeps delivering me quality potions.’ And the potions are undeniably high quality. That’s all I know.”

“What else can you tell me about Krait and the Serpent’s Storeroom?” asked Severus.

“Edgar Krait’s a nice enough bloke. He’s close to some of the key players in the alleys. Bit of a rough and tumble type, but that’s pretty standard for the alleys. His shop _is_ on Knockturn. Wouldn’t want to cross him in a fight. A fairly average potioneer himself, he’s a better businessman and he’s begun contracting out most of his brewing requirements whilst he focuses on ingredients. He’s got three brewers on staff now, although this Harry’s still just a kid. The quality of ready brewed potions has increased significantly in the last couple of years, so much that I recommended Krait to Malfoy last year when he needed some custom brews.”

Lucius had asked Severus to confirm the quality of the suppressant and nutrient potions he’d commissioned for Draco; aware of his Wolfsbane potion workload Lucius had instead found an alternate supplier rather than asking Severus to brew his godson’s potions. Severus had been simultaneously hurt that Lucius hadn’t asked him to brew his godson’s potions, grateful that Lucius recognised the importance of his research and the extent of his workload, and relieved that the potions had been top quality. 

“So you recommend the Serpent’s Storeroom?” Severus asked.

“The Serpent’s not a bad little apothecary. Cheaper than Mulpepper’s and the Diagon Alley apothecaries, but that’s partly due to its location. Quality stock; I understand that the Aldermaster frequents the Serpent for certain ingredients. I’ve seen his son in there on a few occasions picking up orders for the Aldermaster. Good kid, that Leo.”

“Anything else?” Severus asked, somewhat abruptly. There was a limit to how long his knees would comfortably tolerate Floo calls, and he’d passed that several minutes ago. 

“The Serpent’s the only apothecary with a brewer who can brew Potter’s Portable Protection Potion, and believe you me, once I got the recipe out of the Guild’s Research and Development people, I asked every brewer and apothecary I knew. Krait was the only one who’s been able to supply it to me.”

Of course Harry Potter would be able to brew Potter’s Portable Protection Potion. _She’d invented it_. One mark in the column for Potter being Krait’s brewer, rather than Rigel. Damnit. Of course the puzzle grew more complicated rather than less. Nevertheless, it appeared that Burke hadn’t made the connection between Harry-who-brews-for-Krait and potions intern Harry Potter who invented the Protection Potion, even after Severus’s earlier interrogation of Burke. Regardless of what he had intimated to Miss Potter, once he’d discovered that not even Burke knew that it was Heiress Harriet Potter who was brewing for him, Severus had not informed Burke of Potter’s full name. He was more than capable of extracting information from unwilling and ignorant subjects without giving any information in return, and he would at least respect the Aldermaster’s request to keep the information about Miss Potter confidential. 

Burke laughed. “I don’t think Edgar appreciates just how much some of my customers are willing to pay for this new potion. It’s very profitable – even with the strange condition I had to agree to before he’d sell it to me: I had to agree to provide it free of charge to any werewolf who asked. Said that it was a requirement of his brewer. He does the same with the Protection Potions he sells too.”

Severus tucked that information away for later, ending the conversation with a pointed reminder that he needed the Hogwarts order before term started. Burke repeated his promises and cut the Floo connection. Severus got up off his knees with a groan and dusted the ash off his robes, wondering why the wizard who invented Floo calls couldn’t have invented a way to make it more convenient. Burke hadn’t told him much he didn’t already know; he just confirmed that Severus would need to visit the Serpent’s Storeroom himself. He should have done that earlier, but there was no use beating himself up about it now. He’d get to the bottom of this mess with Potter and Black eventually.

\- - - - - - - - - - -

Severus was well aware that his distinctive features and characteristic black brewing robes and brewers boots, combined with the fact that he’d been teaching potions to a substantial proportion of the wizarding population for well over a decade, plus his recent major breakthrough with the New Wolfsbane Potion, meant that under ordinary circumstances he was easily recognisable. Not that he’d ever be mobbed adoring fans, or attacked by disgruntled students or their parents, but he didn’t particularly want to advertise his interest in the Serpent’s Storeroom. The potions community was not large, and Severus wanted information; he didn’t want to be providing fodder for gossip or for Riddle.

Severus didn’t often use it, but he made sure to always have a supply of Polyjuice potion available for the odd occasion when circumstances required that he gather information incognito. It was one reason why he had been so certain that Rigel’s facial distortions at that quidditch match in the last year had been Polyjuice wearing off. He knew what Polyjuice wearing off looked like and what it felt like. The uncomfortable feeling could easily result in what looked to an outsider like a painful grimace. Severus had very carefully watched the boy for hours the following week, but he had neither seen nor smelt any sign of Polyjuice on the boy. 

Everyone knew Polyjuice only lasted for an hour, so he’d have to be careful with his time today. Severus did have Polyjuice in a flask as a backup, but that was only in case of an emergency; drinking from a hip flask was a sure sign of alcoholism, suspicious activity, or undercover aurors. (Undercover aurors were never as discreet as they thought, and Polyjuice was a staple of some investigations).

Severus scowled in the mirror at his clothes. They might have been appropriately nondescript, but the blue shirt, charcoal trousers and navy outer robe were not his accustomed brewing robes, and just felt wrong. He carefully chose a curly light brown hair from the multitude of hair samples in his kit. (He wasn’t the only one; Severus had noted but ostensibly ignored the carefully labelled hair samples in Rigel’s potions kit when he restocked it). Severus had quite a variety of different hairs curated, all carefully plucked from unknowing muggles who bore some vague resemblance to his body shape. Yes, he could transfigure his clothes to fit, but over the years he’d found it easier if his polyjuiced form was closer to his real shape.

He scowled again once the transformation was complete, though the scowl didn’t work quite so well on his borrowed face. The curly hair was a bit of a shock to his system and he didn’t like having hazel eyes, an overabundance of laugh lines, or a nondescript nose and round chin (chins if he was being harsh). Still, it achieved his objective; as he Flooed into the Leaky Cauldron he looked absolutely nothing like Potions Master Severus Snape.

Somewhat annoyed that he couldn’t take advantage of his usual mien and reputation to part the crowds in his way (this face just did not lend itself to scowling), Severus quickly made his way down Diagon and Knockturn. He found the Serpent’s Storeroom soon enough; the lurid posters advertising Potter’s Portable Protection Potion that were plastered across the windows could be seen from some distance up the alley. At the least the posters didn’t include Potter’s picture. Yet another reason Severus didn’t want publicity photos taken for his New Wolfsbane Potion; he was firmly of the belief that the potion should speak for itself, and he despised the sort of personal publicity that many of the more self-serving potioneers adopted.

Draping himself in a gentle notice-me-not charm so as to avoid drawing attention to himself, Severus quietly entered the apothecary. A tall blonde man with a scarred face, brewing robes and a potioneer’s apron was seated behind the counter talking to one of the customers. That must be Edgar Krait. There were at least half a dozen other people in the store, more than he’d expected. Potter’s Portable Protection Potion and the accompanying Ward Breaker Potion were prominently displayed at the front of the shop. It appeared to be selling well; there were only two bottles of each left in the display. 

As he passed the front counter, Severus discreetly cast an eavesdropping charm of his own creation on Krait, on the off chance that Krait’s conversation with his customers was of interest. It wasn’t. Severus did not need Krait’s explanation of how the Protection Potion and Ward Breaker worked. 

Keeping an ear on Krait’s conversation (still not of interest, Severus did not need to learn from Krait that acai was the only suitable substitute for ginseng, although given some of the wildly incorrect statements Krait’s customer was making, the customer certainly did), Severus browsed the ready-made potions located towards the back of the shop. Rigel’s handwriting was recognisable on the labels of quite a few different potions, with the Rigel labelled potions correlating neatly with the list on the back of the note. Why would Rigel be supplying Krait on his cousin’s behalf? Why would Rigel pretend to be Potter?

Deciding that more information and evidence was better than less, particularly if he needed to confront the troublesome cousins about the wisdom (or otherwise) of their activities, Severus opted to purchase samples of each of the numerous potions that were labelled with Rigel’s writing. As he plucked up a basket from the stack adjacent to the counter, the door opened and a vaguely familiar young man entered. He was about eighteen or nineteen, reasonably tall, with bright hazel eyes and brown hair, and radiating unconscious authority and self-possession.

Whilst collecting the Rigel labelled potions, Severus racked his brain trying to remember where he’d seen this young man before. Not a recent Hogwarts graduate, of that he was sure, even though the kid looked to be one or two years out of school. Home schooled then, or schooled abroad. So where could Severus have seen him? His eavesdropping charm provided the answer sooner than his recall technique.

“What can I do for you today, your highness?” Krait said to the young man in a quiet voice, no teasing evident despite the strange address. 

“And a good morning to you too, Ed,” the young man responded in similarly hushed tones. 

“I’m still waiting on your father’s dragon liver, if that’s what you’re after. You know that order takes time.”

Father? Burke had told him the Aldermaster’s son sometimes picked up things for his father. Leo Hurst; that was the young man’s name. He did resemble the Aldermaster, and Severus had a faint recollection that he might have seen Leo around the Guild building or at Guild functions. Not that Severus spent much time at Guild functions.

“Not this time. I actually dropped by hoping Harry was here.”

Harry, not Rigel. So Krait and Hurst were both under the impression that it was Harry who brewed for the Serpent’s Storeroom. It came to him that Malcolm Hurst had mentioned that his son and wife were both friendly with the Potter girl. Severus’s ears pricked up at that and he cranked his eavesdropping charm to the max; their subdued voices suggested that this was not intended to be a public conversation.

“I thought that with your ears, you were all knowing,” joked Krait. 

“Hardly,” replied Leo drily. “I passed Harry on her way to the Potions Guild yesterday; apart from that no-one’s seen her in the alleys for a couple of days now.”

Krait swore. “I’m running low on Protection Potions. Burke took all of the last batch. I owled Harry last week with a list of the potions I need. No response.”

Severus was pretty certain he knew what happened to the response. He was also pretty certain he wasn’t supposed to have it.

“Don’t worry. She’s reliable.”

Krait scoffed. “Kid’s my best brewer. Quality guaranteed. No-one else can brew her Protection Potion. But when it comes to quantity and timing? Nah. A veritable flood of potions last year. I was overstocked. And then there’s a two-month drought. Nothing in May or June.”

“I’ll look out for her, and if I do see her, I’ll get her to drop in or send an owl,” promised Leo. 

“Ta.” Krait responded.

“Will I see you at the Phoenix later?” Leo asked, as he made his way towards the door.

“Nah. I’ve got a batch of porcupine quills I need to sort through and repackage.”

Severus wasn’t entirely sure he was any closer to understanding what Black and Potter were doing, but at least he’d be able to solve his porcupine quill problem without further haranguing Burke. A temporary oversupply of the quills was not a problem; the quills stored well with stasis charms, and it wasn’t as if Hogwarts was lacking in storage space for potions ingredients. But he’d better buy his potions and his quills and get out of here before his hour was up and his Polyjuice ran out.

\- - - - - - - - - - -

Once the quills had been safely owled off to Hogwarts where the elves would look after them, and he’d returned to his own face and his own clothes, Severus sat down in his lab to examine the potions he’d purchased. He could see why Burke purchased them in bulk and sold them to his rather discerning clientele, and he could see why the Aldermaster had been impressed. The potions were good quality; easily of the standard expected of a Potions Master, a level he knew that Rigel brewed at. The blood replenisher in particular was impressive; not quite the standard recipe, and he wondered what tweaks had been made to the recipe, and more interestingly, who’d made them.

He carefully checked the handwriting on the labels. It was _Rigel’s_ handwriting. Most definitely Rigel’s handwriting. But why? So who had actually brewed the potions? Harry Potter or Rigel Black? If it was Potter, why was Black’s handwriting on the letter and on the potion labels? If it was Black, why was he brewing and pretending to be his cousin? It wasn’t as if Potter couldn’t brew; she could. He’d seen her demonstrate her shaped imbuing, and the potion base she’d prepared was easily of the same high standard as Rigel’s brews, not to mention that she’d made the shaped imbuing process look effortless. (Severus hated to admit that even he had struggled with shaped imbuing at first.)

The handwriting on the note and on the potion bottles supported the hypothesis that Black was Krait’s brewer. So too did Krait’s comments about the inconsistent supply of potions over last year. Severus kept a close eye on some aspects of Rigel’s brewing activities; the wards on his student’s lab told him when Rigel was in the lab and he knew that Rigel spent far more time in his lab than was required to meet the requirements of Rigel’s extended syllabus, but Severus was rather hands off about the detail of what Rigel actually did in his lab. 

As long as Rigel didn’t pillage the student ingredient stores (and Severus knew from the number of owls Rigel received in the Great Hall that he ordered his own ingredients for his brewing), or attempt dangerous brews on his own; Severus didn’t need to know what he brewed. As a student, Severus had supplemented his own finances by brewing contraceptive, hangover and sober up potions then charging his schoolmates for them; the fact that the Hospital wing’s demand for those potions hadn’t changed suggested that wasn’t what Rigel was doing. A shame; Severus would be quite happy brewing fewer contraceptive potions for the hormonally charged hellions at Hogwarts, indeed it was only the grim amusement at what horror the boorish brats would feel if they realised who was responsible for the Hospital Wing’s contraceptive potions supply that kept him from complaining excessively to Pomfrey. That and the thought of unwanted teenage pregnancies and explanations to angry parents. Rigel could instead have been brewing potions and owling them to Krait; Rigel’s absence from his lab after his ordeal with Pettigrew had been lengthy and Krait’s complaints about an oversupply followed by an undersupply would indeed align with Rigel’s use of his Hogwarts potions lab.

Unfortunately that hypothesis didn’t align neatly with all the facts that Severus had before him. Of course it didn’t; Severus’s life was never that straight forward. Krait was being supplied with Protection Potions, yet Rigel had always maintained that he couldn’t shaped imbue. Shaped imbuing was Potter’s invention, not Rigel’s and Rigel claimed he couldn’t do it. It was the only apparent difference between the cousins’ brewing skillls. Severus has to admit scepticism that Rigel couldn’t shaped imbue. Shaped imbuing required excellent magical control, wandless magic, and a considerable amount of magical power; Rigel could use his magic wandlessly, and he unquestionably had the control and the power. There was no reason he shouldn’t be able to shaped imbue. With so few others able to do it, why wouldn’t Rigel ask his cousin for assistance learning the technique if he was finding it challenging? Particularly if Potter truly wanted to make the technique mainstream amongst brewers? Yet another fact that did not make sense.

The most significant argument against the hypothesis that Black was Krait’s brewer was Krait and Leo’s reference to “Harry”. Krait’s tight-lipped attitude about his brewers could be because he didn’t care enough to know their details. But from what he had seen of the interactions between Miss Potter and Aldermaster Hurst at the Parkinson’s Gala last year, Potter’s friendship with the Aldermaster’s son and wife was genuine. A teenage boy, particularly one as self-possessed as Leo Hurst appeared to be, would know who his friends were. Particularly when they were talented teenage girls, if Severus was correctly reading between the lines. Which strongly suggested that it was indeed Harry Potter who was brewing for the Serpent’s Storeroom, and not Rigel Black.

Severus scowled, rubbing his forehead and pinching his nose. This wasn’t the first time, and he supposed it probably wouldn’t be the last, that Rigel Black had given him a headache. And now he could add Harry Potter to the mix of headache inducing students. Bloody Marauders. Not content with causing him grief when they were children, now the Marauders had spawned children to continue aggravating him.

Severus had known for a long time that Rigel Black was far from a normal child. Rigel was obsessed with potions to an extraordinary degree, his magical power level was exceptional, (Severus suspected lord level), and his behaviour had never been that of a child. He was unnaturally contained, controlled, repressed; it was as if he was hiding a secret his life depended on, a secret so big that he could never relax. Rigel wasn’t anti-social, but that was more due to the efforts of his friends than his own efforts, and he’d shown no interest in the sort of dalliances or crushes that teenage boys typically had.

There was a lot about Rigel that didn’t make sense, or that was suspicious in some way, but at some point, somehow, Severus had just accepted Rigel’s quirks and anomalies without bothering to investigate further. But with what Rigel would be facing this year, Rigel would need all the assistance Severus could provide, and Severus could not provide assistance if he was going to be blindsided by whatever shenanigans Rigel was getting up to with his cousin.

Miss Potter was even more of an enigma than Rigel. He’d had far less interaction with her, much less experience on which to base his analysis. Severus could admit to himself that his initial reaction to Miss Potter had been somewhat coloured by his antagonism towards her father and his ... complicated ... history with her mother. 

He knew Miss Potter attended the American Institute of Magic, where she was studying Healing, not Potions, and had some convoluted reasoning explaining why, not least because the Potions track was not worth her time. (From the limited dealings Severus had had with AIM’s Potions Master Tallum, Severus couldn’t disagree). At the age of thirteen she’d developed a new brewing technique that had the potential to revolutionise potions, but she wasn’t interested in patenting it. Nor did she seem particularly interested in making money from her invention. She just seemed interested in potions. A lot like Rigel…

There was something strange about the two of them, Rigel Black and Harriet Potter. He knew it. More than their remarkably similar appearance. More than just this latest puzzle. He could almost feel the answer to the mystery, but it eluded him, hovering at the edge of his consciousness, just outside his grasp. So Severus once more sank into a meditative state; he was not just a Potions Master, he was a master of the Mind Arts, and one of the many occlumency techniques he’d acquired allowed him to tap into his subconscious to see the patterns behind apparently unrelated, often disparate and irrelevant seeming, facts and events.

His occlumency turned his thoughts to the night of the Parkinson’s new year gala; the night he met halfblood Heiress Harriet Potter. Although he’d seen her at the Potions Guild Open House where she had impressed him against his better judgement, the Parkinson’s gala was the first time he’d spoken to her. But it wasn’t the meeting with Potter or his discussion with the Aldermaster that his occlumency focused on. It was the incident with Tiberius Ogden; or to be more accurate, the aftermath of the incident. Severus had been embroiled in private discussions with Lucius and Riddle about that damnable jewel and as such had missed witnessing Rigel and Potter heal Ogden. Not that it surprised him that once again Rigel Black had been caught up in the drama; only this time it looked like the little drama magnet had managed to drag another player, in the form of his cousin, onto centre stage.

But it wasn’t the teenagers healing the elder wizard that was the oddity; Miss Potter had been enrolled in the Healing track at the American Institute of Magic for the last two and a half years and Severus himself had made arrangements for Rigel to learn healing with Madam Pomfrey so as to complement Rigel’s self-study of healing. No, the oddity was the revelation, courtesy of Draco, that the two teenagers had accomplished the healing of Ogden, an exhaustive piece of magic, using each other’s wands. They’d laughed it off as inattentiveness, suggesting that they carelessly grabbed each other’s wands all the time, and Lily had reinforced the closeness of the cousins with their penchant for sharing everything by regaling the group with tales of the duo’s childhood antics swapping clothes. 

On the night of the gala Severus had then become aware of, and completely distracted by, the sight of Lily’s suppressor bracelet; Miss Potter’s use of Rigel’s holly wand to successfully heal a grown wizard from an attack that would, if left untreated, have rapidly killed him, had been relegated to the back of his mind. Until now, when his occlumency had drawn his attention to the matter.

What if … no. It couldn’t be. Surely not... Not even the Marauders would be that foolhardy in support of a prank. 

But if Severus was correct, and for all his previously mistaken assumptions about Rigel and what the boy could or couldn’t do, this time (hah! how many times had he been wrong about Rigel before?) he was (worryingly) confident that this time he _was_ correct; that this was more than a prank. Much, much more. Rigel was not pretending to be his halfblood cousin; _Rigel’s halfblood cousin was pretending to be him_. Heiress Harriet Potter had swapped places with Heir Arcturus Rigel Black. 

It was too outrageous to contemplate. Too crazy to consider. Too audacious to implement. A ruse built on the flimsiest of pretences, held together by society’s assumptions, expectations, preconceived perceptions and prejudices. The penalties for blood identity theft were severe. Azkaban or the Dementor’s Kiss. But Severus had felt the depth of emotion, the excessive longing, the sheer unbridled passion, that Rigel had for potions during that strange sharing of emotions in his office early in Rigel’s first year. In the aftermath of that strange experience he had ignored Rigel’s panicked response, at the time passing it off as an insecure first year worried about attacking his teacher. But what if it was more than that? What if Rigel was worried about what Severus had learnt from his mind? Could the Marauder offspring really be that desperate to pursue their passions that they would be willing to embark on such a crazy, dangerous, harebrained scheme? Starting from when they were _eleven_?

But for all that he was involved with the SOW party, for all that he was accepted as an important part of Dark Pureblood society, Severus was still a halfblood with a muggle father, a muggle upbringing, and he’d once had a muggleborn best friend who had introduced him to the writings of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the adventures of Sherlock Holmes, and the famous quote that “ _when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth_.”

In this instance, what was impossible was that Rigel had used a wand that was not his to heal Ogden. Witches and wizards _do not_ use each other’s wands, the wand chooses the wizard, and regardless of what Lily Potter said about the closeness of the cousins, their penchant for sharing, amusingly illustrated through the wearing of each other’s clothes when younger, would not, _could not_ , apply to their wands. Severus had first-hand experience with Rigel’s inability to use an inappropriate wand; yet tonight it was not Rigel who used the holly wand that Severus had seen choose Rigel at Ollivander’s; it was Harriet Potter who had used the holly wand that, in his presence, had chosen Rigel Black. Ergo, Harriet Potter must be the owner of the holly wand. And as the simplest explanation is most likely the right one, according to another famous muggle, William of Ockham, _Harriet Potter attended Hogwarts as Rigel Black_ , leaving Arcturus Rigel Black to attend AIM as Harry Potter. Harriet Potter was his long awaited, much desired protege, not Black. 

Severus wondered idly if the Parkinson’s gala was the first time he had actually met the real Arcturus Rigel Black. Both cousins had been there that night, and the time turner that might have otherwise facilitated one child pretending to be two different children at the same time had been safely locked in his desk drawer in his office at Hogwarts.

Suddenly he realised that the cousins’ somewhat convoluted education and career explanations were not so convoluted after all. It was so simple: Black wanted to be a Healer and attended AIM to take advantage of their prodigious healing programme; Potter wanted to be a Potions Mistress and attended Hogwarts to learn from him. As a halfblood, Potter could not attend Hogwarts, and for whatever unfathomable reason of Sirius Black’s, Black could not attend AIM.

Neither had near equal interests in the other’s chosen career as Rigel had claimed; they simply pretended such so that there was a plausible reason for having knowledge they had obtained from the school the other was ostensibly attending. Unbelievable as he would have thought it four years ago, Halfblood Harriet Potter, the daughter of his despised rival James Potter, was pretending to be Arcturus Rigel Black so that she could attend Hogwarts and learn potions from him, Potions Master Severus Snape. 

Then, unbidden, but driven by his Occlumency’s desire to see not just the whole picture but how the individual pieces that comprised the puzzle fit together, long forgotten recollections of Lily came to the forefront of his mind; recollections from their younger days, of Lily’s powerful, uncontrollable magic. Magic that Lily insisted had a mind of its own, that it did things of its own volition. Severus shivered at the memory of being dunked in the duck pond soon after Lily’s thirteenth birthday, and laughed as his mind recalled the incident on Platform 9 ¾ when James Potter annoyed a volatile Lily one time too often and her magic retaliated, pushing Potter all the way onto the train, into a compartment, throwing his luggage in after him and locking him inside for good measure, all without a scratch. 

In all his discussions with Rigel about his magic, his powerful, uncontrollable magic, how could Severus have forgotten those incidents? Yes, those memories of earlier days were now somewhat painful, but still he should not have overlooked the strange similarities between the behaviour of Lily’s magic and Rigel’s magic. As a teenager he’d rejected Lily’s claims her magic had its own mind in just the same way as he’d as a Professor rejected Rigel’s claims that his magic was sentient. Of course they had similar magic, and powerful magic at that; “Rigel” was Lily’s daughter.

If Severus was being strictly honest with himself, he could admit that his antagonism towards James Potter had blinded him; the offspring of the extraordinarily powerful Lily Evans and the (much as Severus hated to admit it) above average James Potter was far more likely to be extraordinarily magically powerful than the offspring of the above average Sirius Black and his less remarkable wife, Diana. 

Rigel had even told him that his “aunt” wore a suppressor. It was one of the reasons that Rigel had given him for the acceptability of a suppressor. Severus had thought that Rigel’s behaviour towards his magic, his reasons for hiding the difficulties he was having controlling his powerful magic after his core maturation, were weak. And for Arcturus Rigel Black, Dark Pureblood Heir to the House of Black, with expectations and responsibilities in the political and social arenas, those reasons were weak. But Harriet Potter had good reasons for not wanting anyone, least of all Sirius Black, to know about Rigel’s problems with controlling magic, Rigel’s need for a suppressor, or even Rigel’s magical power levels; Arcturus Rigel Black had never had control issues, the need for a suppressor, nor did he have extraordinary levels of magical power. 

A number of things suddenly fell into place; quirks and anomalies about Rigel Black that just didn’t make sense suddenly did, because Rigel Black wasn’t Heir Arcturus Rigel Black, Rigel Black was Heiress Harriet Potter. 

It explained Rigel’s otherwise inexplicable behaviour, the myriad little things that Severus had just taken to ignoring, because that was easier than trying to understand why Rigel acted so differently around Sirius Black, why Rigel was so paranoid about means of identification, why Rigel had asked so many questions before consenting to Severus reading his core, why Rigel refused medical diagnostic charms, and why Rigel was so contained, so controlled, and never really relaxed. It explained why Rigel’s mental avatar had long hair; despite knowing that one’s mental manifestation was inextricably linked to how a person saw themselves, Severus had never thought to question why Rigel might see himself with long hair.

It explained how Rigel was a Parselmouth, a magical gift from the Peverell line that was ironically much more likely to manifest in the Light Potter family than the Dark Black family. When Severus realised his serpentine animagus form, and the Parselmouth abilities of the SOW party’s leader to whom he had sworn his allegiance to, Severus had conducted considerable research into Parseltongue and the incidence of Parselmouth abilities. It had amused Severus no end that fanatically Light Pureblood James Potter and his offspring were more likely to possess these “Dark” magical abilities than the Dark Purebloods Potter despised.

It explained the similarities that Severus had observed between Rigel and Miss Potter; the way they prepared their potions ingredients, the similarity in the writing style of essays Rigel submitted and the notes Harriet Potter had prepared, their mannerisms while brewing, even their facial expressions, and the easy familiarity Miss Potter had with Severus’s handwriting. It explained why Miss Potter blithely ignored his insinuations that she was presenting Rigel’s work as hers when insinuations that she gained her internship because of her connections with the Hurst family had her bristling.

It would even explain why Rigel was not interested in taking credit for any accomplishments, why Rigel was so upset at Severus’s accusation that Rigel was letting Miss Potter take credit for Rigel’s work, and why Rigel claimed an inability to shaped imbue. Rigel was at Hogwarts to learn. But Rigel could not afford to have a trail of accomplishments or achievements that Arcturus Rigel Black could not replicate, and in the longer term, it was in Miss Potter’s interests that any accomplishments, discoveries and innovations she made in the potions field were actually in her name. 

Now the big question: what was Severus going to do with this knowledge? The implications were staggering; this was blood identity theft, and the penalties for the participants and co-conspirators harsh. Potter might be a Book of Gold Heiress, but she was a halfblood, and the laws protecting purebloods threw halfbloods to the wolves. If the cousins were caught and their ruse exposed, the penalties facing Potter (imprisonment in Azkaban or the Dementor’s Kiss), far outweighed the slap on the wrist and the fine facing Black. Even Severus, for all that he was heir to the Prince family, would be punished more severely as a halfblood for just knowing about the ruse than Black would for being a willing co-conspirator.

Downing a Calming Draught and pushing past his initial burst of anger and outrage that the child of James Potter had tricked him so, and his immediate panic that Riddle would destroy Severus’s much awaited protégé, if not Severus himself for knowing of the ruse, for he knew well that Riddle was not kind to those who crossed him, Severus decided to sleep on it. With any luck, his subconscious would work things through overnight; at the very least he would be refreshed, if not calmer, in the morning. 

\- - - - - - - - - - -

Severus’s hope that he would awake refreshed after a good night’s sleep, with a clearer head and a simple solution to this puzzling conundrum had indeed been wishful thinking. Very wishful thinking. Not even engaging his occlumency had been sufficient to overcome the anxious thoughts pervading his mind. Not since those dreadful days when his relationship with Lily had imploded so spectacularly had he been so unable to settle himself. In the end he’d resorted to a Dreamless Sleep Draught. 

One thing he was clear about: Severus was on Rigel’s side. Rigel, and it was easier and safer to continue to refer to Rigel as Rigel, even in his own mind, was his priority. Severus had initially struggled to overcome his antagonism towards Sirius Black and maintain a neutral approach to the Marauder’s offspring when Rigel was sorted into Slytherin. This internal struggle had intensified when Rigel’s potions knowledge, skills and passion emerged. Since then Severus had found Rigel to be everything he could possibly have dreamed of in a protege, and even now knowing that Rigel was the offspring of James Potter, the Marauder he loathed above even Sirius Black, and Severus’s childhood love Lily Evans, Severus’s support (and loathe though Severus was to admit it, even to himself, his affection) for Rigel would not falter. Severus would support Rigel because Rigel deserved Severus’s support, because Severus could help Rigel accomplish great things, because together they could push the boundaries of potions beyond anything the closed minded incompetents within the guild, the simpering fools in the SOW Party, the useless twits in the Department of Mysteries, and the illiterate buffoons in the Ministry imagined. 

But how could Severus best support Rigel? Lucius had noted on more than one occasion that things are often most confusing when more than one plot overlaps, and the potential for catastrophic disaster for Rigel arising from the overlapping of Rigel’s actions and Riddle’s plans for the year was terrifying. As much as he prided himself on his occlumency skills, Severus wasn’t willing to risk his soul, or Rigel’s, on the off chance that he was a better Occlumens than Riddle was a Legilimens. Whatever else he might be, Riddle was an extremely powerful wizard who commanded not inconsiderable control over the wizarding world.

Severus spent the day researching in his library. The Prince family might not have the history of the Malfoys, Blacks, Lestranges, or even the Potters, but Severus had few interests other than academic research, his spending habits were not profligate, and he had little desire to spend gold on anything other than expanding his library. As a consequence, while his personal library may not be able to outshine the libraries of the established Pureblood families in terms of quantity, Severus was confident that his library was by far the best in terms of the quality of esoteric magical information it contained.

At last he found reference to an old occlumency technique he thought he could adapt to suit his purpose. What he needed was more subtle than simply obliviating himself of the knowledge that Harriet Potter was attending Hogwarts in the guise of Rigel Black. Instead, Severus needed to lock the knowledge of Rigel’s true identity in his mind where no-one could access it, not even himself, but at the same time he did not want to lose access completely to this knowledge. There could well come a time in this coming year where having this knowledge in advance could prevent disaster for Rigel. 

It was with a somewhat heavy heart that he began making the requisite preparations. In truth, it was more a ritual than a technique, but that mattered little; what was important was that it was a mechanism to lock away the knowledge unless and until certain conditions were met. Severus knew that he shouldn’t bemoan his actions, more than anyone he understood the necessity of locking away this information; it was just that it would be so much easier if he could talk directly to Rigel about Miss Potter’s shaped imbuing proposals. Correspondence on the subject would be difficult to maintain this year; he suspected that both he and Rigel would be too distracted by Riddle’s plans. Instead he’d have to wait until next summer before they could fully explore her ideas. Damnit. She wouldn’t be free in the summer, either if Riddle’s plans came to fruition; she’d be stuck with Riddle on that damnable world tour. If only he could…. No. Severus knew what he had to do. Grimacing, he began the ritual. 

\- - - - - - - - - - -

Severus surveyed the Slytherin common room, mentally checking that all students were present, his eyes briefly alighting upon his enigmatic protégée, Rigel Black. Something important about Rigel flickered through his mind, a wisp of memory that was slithering through his fingers, slipping out of his grasp. Not to worry though; Severus was a master of the Mind Arts and his memory would recall important facts when he needed them. Right now he had his responsibilities as Head of Slytherin to discharge. 

**Author's Note:**

> It's unclear from the text in chapter 2 of Futile Facade if Harry disguised her handwriting when she responded to Snape's request for a shaped imbuing demonstration. This got me wondering what would happen if Snape did see something from Harry in Rigel's writing, building on my head canon that it's Rigel's handwriting that gives away the ruse to Snape. And so this fic was written.
> 
> Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it.


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